


What A Ridiculous Name For A Cat

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Banter, Cat, Fluff, Kitty - Freeform, M/M, our boys get a kitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Let me guess. We've acquired a cat? -GL</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>We may have, in fact, acquired a cat. -MH</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	What A Ridiculous Name For A Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flubber2kool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flubber2kool/gifts).



> Our boys get a cat. A fat cat. Pure fluff.

_Pick up cat food on your way home. -MH_

Greg stared at the text, both confused and intrigued, then set the folder he had been holding on his desk.

_Trying a new diet? -GL_

He smirked at his cleverness, and sat back in his chair, flipping open a file and stuffing a doughnut into his mouth, holding it there so his hands would be free to sort through the photos of a brutal double homicide. Several minutes later, his phone buzzed.

_Ha ha. -MH_

_Let me guess. We've acquired a cat? -GL_

_We may have, in fact, acquired a cat. -MH_

_And how, dare I ask, did we do that? -GL_

_Let us just say that Sherlock has been forever banned from experimenting on anything ever again. -MH_

_What did he do to the cat? -GL_

_Nothing. John just doesn't want him experimenting on it. -MH_

_So, like the kind-hearted man you are, you offered to take it in. -GL_

_Why am I having trouble believing that? -GL_

_Shush. -MH_

_I happen to be quite fond of cats. -MH_

_I didn't know that. I always assumed you liked snakes and the like. -GL_

_Why would you assume that? -MH_

_Well, snakes are cold, scaly, rough, bite you if you get too close. Sort of like you. -GL_

_Ha ha. Hilarious. -MH_

_I'll pick up food. Anything else you need? -GL_

_Toys for him would be nice. -MH_

_Him? -GL_

_His name is Garfield. -MH_

_Garfield? That's a ridiculous name for a cat. -GL_

_Oi. -MH_

_Oi? Oi, I say oi! -GL_

_Garfield is not a ridiculous name for a cat. -MH_

_Well, it's ridiculous compared to what I thought you'd name an animal. -GL_

_What did you think I would name it? -MH_

_I dunno. Sir Rutherford Moneypenney III or something. -GL_

_Oh, where would I be without your razor-sharp wit and incredibly high-quality insults to get me through the day? I should think I wouldn't make it an hour. -MH_

_Shush. -GL_

_I'll pick up the toys for your baby. -GL_

_He's not my baby, quiet. -MH_

_I'll bet he is. Bet he's curled up in your lap right now. -GL_

_Shut up. -MH_

_Cats are good for the health. -MH_

_Mm, whatever you say, Mummy. -GL_

_I'll kill you. -MH_

_Then where would your baby be? -GL_

_For god's sake. -MH_

_You're annoying. -MH_

_You know you love me. -GL_

_Well, I'd have to pay for anyone else to do the things you do for me. Not many people can afford a live-in maid, masseuse, therapist...-MH_

_Whore. -GL_

_That too. -MH_

Greg laughed at the last text and sighed. _So what kind of cat is it? -GL_

_An orange tabby. [image] -MH_

The doughnut dropped from Greg's mouth into his lap as he stared at the image on his phone, a laugh escaping him. He took several minutes to compose himself (glancing back at the picture every ten seconds didn't really help much at all, but he couldn't help it), and when he finally did, his fingers were still shaking from the aftermath of his laughing fit.

_Mycroft. -GL_

_That is. -GL_

_The most ridiculous cat. -GL_

_I have ever seen in my entire life. -GL_

_He is not! -MH_

_Mycroft. -GL_

_He's the size of a small car. -GL_

_He's just got a lot of fur. -MH_

_And I hardly see how being fat makes someone ridiculous. -MH_

_I'm offended. -MH_

_You're not fat. -GL_

_That cat, however, could eat you for breakfast. -GL_

_Shut up. He's not fat. He's fluffy. -MH_

_What did you use to bring him home, a crane? -GL_

_Or maybe a forklift. Sherlock have him on a diet? -GL_

_For god's sake. -MH_

_You're terrible. -MH_

_Mycroft, that cat is huge. -GL_

_He doesn't need food, he needs liposuction. -GL_

_I like him. -MH_

_How is he not crushing your thighs?! -GL_

_He's not that heavy. -MH_

_Mycroft. -GL_

_He's a _little_ heavy. -MH_

_Diet cat food it is, then. -GL_

_Nonsense. He's perfectly healthy as he is. -MH_

_He needs a diet, Myc. -GL_

_Do you know what a diet is, Gregory? It's merely 'die' with a 't'. -MH_

_That's a line from a Garfield comic. -GL_

_Mycroft. -GL_

_Do you actually read Garfield comics? -GL_

_No. -MH_

_Liar. -GL_

_I don't! -MH_

_You are so full of shite. -GL_

_That is the funniest thing. Mycroft Holmes, reading comics. -GL_

_For your information, I find it amusing. -MH_

_Yeah, all those pretty colours and whatnot. -GL_

_You are such a child. -MH_

_Says the man who named his cat Garfield. -GL_

_Oh piss off. MH_

_Nah, don't think I will. -GL_

_You're annoying. -MH_

The DI laughed as the cab pulled up to their flat, pocketing his phone and picking up one of the two bags he'd managed to fill with items at the pet store. He paid the cabbie, then exited the vehicle, still chuckling to himself as he approached his and Mycroft's flat. He set one of the bags down on the stoop and reached into his pocket for his keys, then unlocked and pushed open the door. 

"Oi, I'm home," he called, "Oh Mummy Holmes...?"

"Oh shut _up_!" Mycroft called back, "I'm in the sitting room."

"Where do you want me to put the food?" the silver-haired DI questioned, "And where's the cow you've put in a fur coat?"

"You're so funny," Mycroft sneered, walking into the kitchen and giving the DI a distasteful look, the cat waddling in behind him, looking very disgruntled and slightly annoyed. Greg couldn't suppress a laugh at the sight of the fat cat toddling in behind his lover, his tail puffed up in an aggravated manner. "Hey there, fatso," he snickered, crouching down to pet the pudgy cat's head. The tabby eyed him warily for a moment, but soon warmed up to the man and began rubbing against his pant leg. "Sweet little fellow, aren't you?" he murmured, scratching the cat behind the ears before looking up at Mycroft and grinning. "How did Sherlock let this poor thing get so fat?"

"He is not fat," Mycroft insisted, leaning down to both pet the cat's back and kiss his lover's head. "He's fluffy."

"If that's fluffy, I'm the bloody Queen."

"Your Majesty," Mycroft smirked, giving the DI a mock curtsy.

Greg rolled his eyes. "So we have a cat," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Can we take care of a cat?"

"Of course we can," the ginger replied, scratching underneath Garfield's chin. "It's not rocket science."

"You mean it isn't aviation science."

"Oh for god's sake."

"Heh," Greg chuckled, leaning over to press a quick kiss to the other man's lips. "I suppose we can take care of a cat. God knows we have enough room."

Something akin to a smile graced Mycroft's lips, and he nudged Greg's cheek. "Brilliant."


End file.
